


if it's meant to be

by Moonprincess92



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Let's Start A Riot, One Night Stands, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonprincess92/pseuds/Moonprincess92
Summary: Two lonely souls meet in a bar.For the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa Exchange.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, @early-sunsets!!!! x 
> 
> Can't believe it took me this long, but I was given the prompt 'soulmates', so i cracked my knuckles and figured 'rIGHT. IMA DO THIS.' Haha I had so much fun with it that I actually carried on writing, so there will probably be a part 2/3 at some point, but for now, I hope you liked this!!!   
> xoxo

The mark had been there from the moment she was born.

His showed up when he was three-years-old.

* * *

 

Jyn kept her face hidden in her scarf, despite the fact that the heat was practically simmering off the ground outside in waves. Karaiah was quite possibly the worst planet in the entire galaxy for her to get stranded on with a dangerous ride in and no guarantee out (the captain of the Correlian garbage shuttle masquerading as a ship that she’d hitched a ride on had quite clearly spelled out that if she wasn’t ready to board again in exactly three days time, he was leaving without her). With three suns the heat was oppressive here, the locals having a natural tolerance but leaving any other passer-by, refugee or runaway at serious risk of dying out on the streets. Her less-than-stellar travel companions had naturally left her to fend for herself. Therefore, finding herself in the corner of the cantina wasn’t so much out of a need for pleasure, but an actual necessity.

She had to go home with  _someone_.

She supposed it could be worse. She could be one of those people who the Force apparently liked to fuck with by tattooing their soulmark right across their faces. Jyn didn’t give a shit personally, but a lot of people on this side of the galaxy did, and sat in a bar like this, no one would dare approach anyone who was quite obviously not meant for them. Jyn’s hand reached down absently under the table, rubbing at the spot on her upper right thigh. By the time anyone saw hers, they usually didn’t care if it had any meaning to them or not. Soulmarks were subjective, after all. How many stories came out of the holonet of couples forcing their significant other’s marks to mean something to them, insisting that it was destiny, only to eventually come across the real soulmate decades later? That wasn’t happening for her.

If she had her way, it would never happen at all. 

 _“Your mark doesn’t define you, Stardust,”_ her papa would tell her as a child, Mama smiling in the background.  _“You can ignore it, if you want.”_

 _“I don’t get it. What do these numbers even mean?”_ Small her had jabbed at the mark on her leg as she sat still in the tub. Water and suds continued to float around her, shifting and swirling, but the mark always stayed the same. A string of numbers, printed in black across her thigh.

 _“They don’t mean anything to you, and that’s fine,”_ Papa had explained gently.  _“But they mean something to someone else out in the Galaxy. Whoever they are, if you meet, they will recognise those numbers and if you wanted to, you could spend the rest of your life with that person.”_

_“You mean like get married and all that stuff?”_

Mama had laughed, leaning down to kiss Papa’s head.  _“And all that stuff.”_

_“Ew.”_

She still shared her younger self’s sentiment. Soulmarks made people do crazy things. It made people force things that weren’t real, it made them kill,  _it made them want_ , and Jyn Erso couldn’t be made to do anything.

Unfortunately, last call was fast approaching and she still had nowhere to go but the stifling temperatures outside unless she found someone she could go home with soon. She felt like throwing back the last of her drink, but she needed something in her hands and instead, her fingers just clenched around the glass. There was one guy over at the bar, at least. He was by himself, had even smiled as he caught her eye a couple times, but still hadn’t come over. She was going to have to do this herself.

She clenched her teeth and stood.

“So what’s your story?” she asked, dropping down into the seat next to him. He didn’t startle, didn’t even flinch, almost as if he heard her coming. He rubbed a hand over his bearded chin, contemplating.

“What’s yours?” he eventually threw back.

“Husband left me for his soulmate, heartbroken and seeking a rebound,” she said without hesitation.

He actually laughed, glancing down at her. With the way that the bar lights hit him, it was only then that she actually noticed the tattoo. The dusting of stars trailed down his neck, starting underneath his ear and ending at his collar, although she didn’t know whether it went any further thanks to the leather jacket he wore. Nothing indicated that it was a soulmark compared to say just a regular tattoo that a lot of people with visible soulmarks got to try and disguise the real thing.

It meant nothing, of course.

“So how long are you stuck on this planet with nowhere to go?” he asked her, the laugh still lingering on his face.

Jyn considered forcing the story, but she ended up saying,

“Three days.”

The man nodded. “So tell me about this ex-husband. Bastard? Still love him?”

“Bastard,” she said at once, a part of her sighing in relief. “Can go fuck a Hutt, to be honest.”

“I could make that happen.”

“What’s your name?”

“You really want to make this personal?” he asked.

She supposed she didn’t. She watched the stars on his neck, the way they seemed to blend and meld together. They were all connected, but it was only when she quickly glanced back up to the man’s face that she realised her mistake. He’d caught her looking and his expression was unreadable. She didn’t know how to explain that she wasn’t interested, didn’t care, yet her heart had still jack-knifed up into her throat anyway –

“Go on, then,” he gestured up at it. “Ask about the mark. If anything, it’s usually a good conversation starter.”

“I – I don’t –”

“I know.”

The look he gave her was understanding, yet he asked again anyway. Jyn sighed and said,

“So is that your mark?”

He nodded, sipping his drink as he did so. The movement of his throat made the pattern ripple, bend and expand like their galaxy did every nanosecond. “Been there since I was a kid,” he said.

“Must be hard having it right there for everyone to see.”

“Could be worse. Could be on my forehead.”

She bit her lip trying not to smile.

“And you haven’t found them, yet?”

“No,” he admitted. “but with a galaxy and a war like this, what are the odds that I ever would anyway?”

( _Seriously, what are the odds?_ )

She snorted in agreement. “At least it looks nice. You could have had literally anything tattooed there. A Bantha. A penis.  _A Bantha penis_.”

“You speak as if from experience.”

“To be fair, I probably shouldn’t have slept with him,” she admitted.

He almost choked on his drink. “Was it worth it?’

“For the story, yes.”

He shook his head, weakly. “Poor bastard.”

“Poor me, I had to look at it the entire time.”

He looked like he wanted to laugh again, but was reigning in his composure. The man kind of looked like a mess, honestly – scruff that clearly hadn’t been shaved in weeks, old shabby clothes with a notable bloodstain on the sleeve, and a look in his eyes that was familiar. The lines in his face suggested someone older, but quite honestly he gave off the vibe of someone who had simply seen a bit too much. She got the feeling. “I guess,” he kept his tone light. “I guess I got lucky with stardust, then.”

She… froze.

Memories suddenly flooded her brain, of her papa calling out to her to come inside when the sun was finally setting over Lah’mu, stroking her hair as he tried to get her to sleep, asking how her day had been. There was no way this stranger knew what the word meant to her. No way to know… know what? She might have kicked herself if she could, if she was at all convinced it would make her brain work properly once more. He was just a guy. He was a guy with a soulmark, just like everyone else, and she shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. Any kind of meaning was just a coincidence.

 _It was_.

She finally threw back the last of her drink.

“So do you want to find out where my soulmark is or not?” she asked.

* * *

 

The inn he was staying at was thankfully not too far away from the cantina. They only had to rush through the outside heat for a few minutes, although they were still left sweating profusely and breathing hard when he was finally slamming a button and the door was sliding closed behind them in his temperature-controlled room. Suddenly, in contrast to the cantina, it was silent save for their breathing and Jyn glanced up at the man.

She knew nothing about him except that he was tall, wore leather jackets and had a soulmate waiting for him out there somewhere. He had the look of a solider, someone who had seen battle, but she really had no way of knowing if the exhaustion settled into his features was actually from fighting this war or not. He could be Imperial. He could murder her any moment. She didn’t know what she would find under the jacket and she didn’t even know whether he would like what was under hers either, but she still reached back and stripped it off anyway.

His eyes widened for just a split second as she started unwinding the scarf from her neck. “Look,” he began, voice low and rumbling and hitting her somehow in her stomach. He rubbed his eyes warily. “I know you just need a place, we don’t have to–”

But she let her gloves join the growing pile on the floor.

“Shut up,” she insisted, before threading a hand into his hair and kissing him.

It was just survival. He was a body for the night, solid and warm, and she hauled him in close, other hand anchoring into his shirt to keep him there. She pressed in deep, his lips tasting like the triple suns and alcohol. He had agreed to take her home with him, he had held her hand and ran with her and now he was here, but she quickly remembered that none of that actually meant he’d  _said_  yes. She felt a flush spread up her neck, his hands only resting lightly at her hips.

She stopped.  

“Sorry,” she muttered, embarrassment keeping her from pulling back. “ _Kriff_ , sorry – if you really don’t–”

He shook his head. “You promised me I’d be able to find your mark,” he said. “I intend on doing that.”

It seemed that he had finally shaken off the surprise. Their kiss was messy, biting – it made her shiver and sigh all at once. He was finally returning the fire she was feeling, nipping lightly at her bottom lip, his tongue ghosting over hers. She tried to stifle the moan that was building. Her hand snaked up to join the other in his hair, thinking about the stars on his skin not even inches away from touching.

Quite frankly, she wanted to touch. She wanted to know whether it would make a difference.

His arms untangled from around her to find the hem of her shirt, drawing it up over her head. Jyn wasn’t exactly self-conscious about her body – she would have to actually give a shit – but even she squirmed slightly as he suddenly took a step back, his eyes burning a path over her. She knew he was just searching, but she’d never been looked at like… like  _that_. With scrutiny. With appreciation. With something she’d never quite seen before. His gaze tore through her but she remained unscathed simply because she knew he couldn’t see it yet. He touched her shoulder and she shivered.

“You won’t find it here,” she whispered.

“Let me check,” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder where his hand had been. She stood still, staring at the ceiling and trying not to make a sound as he lifted her arm, kissing his way down her skin. There were lines and scars and he paused at each of them, but there was no mark and he didn’t stop until he made it down to her fingers. He sucked one, two, into his mouth and she finally looked down and met his gaze.  _This is going to take a long time,_ she attempted to challenge with her eyes. He grinned before swooping in to kiss her hard.

 _That’s the idea_.

He moved over her body slowly, methodically. If she concentrated hard enough, she could imagine that she was still only there for a place to stay, that he was still just searching for a release. But his hands gripped her waist now, fingers digging into her skin and his tongue searching for something that she was shuddering over. What if, what if,  _what if_ … she carded her hands through his hair, spread her palms over his shoulders, his back, as he worked his way down. His kisses left a path of fire in their wake down her chest. He scraped his teeth against the soft skin of her stomach and the hard muscles underneath.

She whimpered when his knees hit the floor.

His hands left her hips, tugged on the trousers she wore. “May I take these off?” he whispered against her navel.

Her thigh was almost stinging.

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, so instead she took him by the jaw and lifted his face up to hers so that he could see her nod. He turned his head and kissed her palm. She tried to help and they ended up fumbling a little, but eventually her weapons belt was tossed aside and finally the fabric of her trousers were sliding down her legs.

She held her breath.

They pooled around her ankles, but she didn’t dare move.  It was hard to miss, and his eyes sought the mark out immediately. She felt his fingers press against her thighs, holding her still, almost too tightly. He was close enough that she could feel his breath against the string of numbers, however when she glanced down it was to see him looking up at her.

She couldn’t read his expression.

“This is it?” he murmured.

A part of her wanted to bite out  _obviously_ , but she only nodded once more. He let out a breath, resting his forehead against her thigh, just above the mark. “I don’t know what it means,” she admitted. “I’ve never known what it’s meant. It’s been there ever since I was born.”

“How old are you?” he suddenly asked.

She attempted to swallow around her dry throat. “23.”

“I’m 26,” he pressed closer. “My mark showed up when I was three years old.”

A part of her was screaming to process this information, but there were more pressing matters right now. His hands moved, caressing her legs, fingers sweeping across the skin from the crease of her ass, all the way to the back of her knees. “These numbers,” he eventually said. “It’s an old Festian format. It’s a date… it’s the date my parents died. I was nearly killed too that day, only I ran and I was found by the Alliance. They took me in, I was only six… it’s the day I vowed to always fight. It’s… it’s the day my entire life changed.”

She pressed her fingers over her eyes, the screaming inside her trying to claw its way out.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he actually let out a chuckle. “I guess,  _fuck_.”

She didn’t know what they were supposed to do from here, whether they were supposed to do anything at all or whether they could just carry on as if the mark actually meant nothing. She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to kiss him senseless. She wanted to touch him, to eventually press him down into the high thread count sheets of his bed, but she absolutely should have known better than to end up in bed with this man. Maybe it was just the mark messing with her head, but there had been a look in this apparent rebel’s eyes back at the bar. A fire and a pain that she understood. He’d lost things too, lost people and perhaps an entire life thanks to this war, and he was the last person in the world she should be doing this with, but. 

 _But_.

His lips suddenly pressed against her mark, and she lost all coherency. She gasped as his hands tightened their grip, holding her to his mouth. His tongue traced each number, swirling and seemingly never ending. No one – no one had ever touched her there and especially not like  _this_. He reached the end of the date, tentatively reaching her inner thigh, and Jyn rubbed the back of his neck, voice raspy, making her decision.

“Keep going.”

He moved to her other leg, kissing and biting his way up to the same point. His fingers never left her mark, traversing the patterns that his tongue had just carved into her skin. He licked the crease of her thigh, sighed into the fabric of her underwear and she barely heard the words, but she still nodded. She feared her hands were slightly too eager as she guided his head, but it became the least of her concerns when he mouthed at her through the fabric. Something white hot charred her brain, before shooting down to where he touched her, and they both pulled her underwear down. 

His mouth against her flesh pulled a moan from her throat. It was insane. She only needed a place to stay, she didn’t ask for a man who kissed her mark and told her his life story before he’d even told her his name. It was dangerous,  _this_ was dangerous, but there were too many things racing through her head at once, so she ignored them all and instead focused on him making her want to combust. He built her up with his skilled tongue and carried her to the edge. She bit back a cry, biting her lip and she honestly felt like her legs were going to give out when he caught her. He rose, and she got a taste of herself when he pressed his lips to hers.

She needed to get back some sense of control. She placed a hand on his chest then, shoving  _hard_. He startled for a moment, stumbling away. However, she reached out and turned him, slamming him into the mattress. “Take off your shirt,” she practically growled. He obliged at once.

She stripped him methodically. The rest of their clothes peeled away until they were as bare as each other and hands reached for each other as she climbed up onto the bed with him. Their kisses were less languid, more hurried now. He wrapped himself around her, tongue pressing into her mouth and she chased the fire that was burning between them. Nothing else mattered in the wake of their lips slanting furiously against each other. She managed to roll him onto his back, straddling his hips and fingers sneaking down to take him in her hand and he let out a hoarse cry of laughter.

“If you keep touching me like that, this’ll be over far too quickly,” he insisted.

She smirked into his mouth, but sobered quickly as she left his lips to travel down his jaw. She let him go to instead grind against him, which probably didn’t alleviate the situation for him at all, but she needed both her hands. She pressed one into the mattress next to his head, pulling back and leaning over him. The other hand was free to gently tilt his head until his neck was exposed and the tattoo of stars washed over her. He held his breath as she stilled, only thing moving being her fingers gently tracing the stars. Each one melded into the next, spattering’s of dots and lines connecting them all. Her heart clenched painfully.

“Stardust,” she whispered. “that’s what you called it?”

He nodded, still with his neck to her. Considering her life fighting for survival and no doubt his fighting for a useless rebellion, it said a lot that he was able to just lie there with his neck exposed, completely at her mercy. She could pull out a knife and have him dead in minutes. 

“My papa used to call me Stardust,” she couldn’t look at him, voice barely above a whisper. “He meant the world to me. He’s stardust now, too… or at least I like to think he is. It’s better than the alternative.” 

He stayed quiet, waiting.

“I don’t know what this means,” she admitted.

He turned his head to look straight into her eyes.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he said. “You’re here for a place to stay, it doesn’t have to be more than that.”

She nodded, but it didn’t feel like it was just that anymore. It was staring at them in the face but she refused to acknowledge it, because her life didn’t have any room for  _soulmates_ or  _connections_  or whatever banthashit the Force was trying to cram down her throat. She needed to make a decision though, and she made it by leaning down and fusing her mouth to his neck. If it felt anything like when he had kissed her mark, then she knew that his sharp cry would be more than enough to convince him to just pretend a bit longer. She wondered if she could inhale the stars, chew them up and spit them back out, because she was certain he would let her if she could. They fumbled a little to align their bodies, but finally he was sliding inside her and she broke away from the stars to press her forehead against his.

They didn’t last nearly as long as Jyn might have hoped. They gave it their best shot, but there was a lot stacked against them. Their hands grasped frantically, their whimpers and sighs filling the room until it was about to burst. What finally tossed Jyn over the edge was his hand sliding down from her ass to her thigh, thumb tracing the numbers tattooed on her skin. She shattered instantly, latching onto his neck with her mouth. He bit back a yell, and eventually they were both left clinging to each other, unable to breathe and covered in a sheen of sweat that had nothing to do with the triple suns outside. After several moments of remembering how to breathe, Jyn collapsed down on her back by his side, arms and legs pressed together.

His hand reached out blindly and somehow managed to find her mark, clamping down on it firmly.

She brushed back the hair that was stuck to her neck. “Shit,” she said. “you alive?”

“Barely,” he answered, and she had to turn her face away so that he didn’t see her smile.

Perhaps she’d known from the moment she’d seen the stars. There was no way she was sneaking out of here at 0500 the next morning like she’d originally planned. Problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted to do instead, because none of this had ever been in her plans.

“What happens next?” she murmured into the room.  

He sighed. “We have three days to figure that out.”

She turned her head to face him, their noses inches away from each other. Three days. It was the worst idea imaginable, to stay with him, to play along. Three days was a long time to hide from the world and pretend everything was all right. There were going to be things she didn’t want to talk about at the end of it, things brought up that she didn’t want to ever have to address, but she was looking at him now and his hand was on her thigh and for some reason, she ended up throwing it all to hell.

“My name is Jyn,” she whispered.

“Nice to meet you,” his voice as equally soft back. “I’m Cassian.” 


	2. Part 2

 

“Favourite memory from when you were a kid.”

Jyn only bothered to put on underwear and Cassian’s too-big singlet because she was actually starting to get a little cold in the temperature-controlled room. While she was used to surviving out in any weather, Cassian apparently liked it on the cool side and her skin started prickling after a few hours, despite his warm body right next to hers. The sheets were a bunched up mess at the foot of the bed, Jyn lying mostly upside down next to him so that his feet weren’t far from her head. She’d tossed one leg over his chest, and it might’ve been the leg that had her mark tattooed across her thigh. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the whirr of the aircon and biting her lips as his fingers kept tracing the mark in front of him.

“I don’t even know if I can remember anything,” Cassian told her, quietly. 

Jyn lifted her arms up over her head, resting on her hands. “Of course you can. Everyone remembers something.”

He thought for a moment, fingers never ceasing against her skin. “I remember stealing food from home for my friends who lived on the streets… but I don’t think that counts as a happy memory.”

She unfortunately understood. She had so many memories that were happy on the surface, but underneath ended up being clouded in fear and resentment. Her mother singing beautifully to her, only to try and drown out the argument her father had been having with the Man in White in the other room. A favourite toy, only to remember it had been a small figure of a Stormtrooper. Memories that were never inherently happy, and she wanted reassurance that at least one of them wasn’t as damaged as they thought they were. “There has to be something,” Jyn said.

Cassian sighed. “I remember when I was about… must’ve been five. Playing Smashball. I was terrible at it and my older sister would pretend she didn’t know me, but it was fun. I scored a goal, once.”

“See, that’s good.”

“I’m pretty sure it was by accident.”

“Goal’s a goal,” she shrugged.

He actually chuckled lightly then. “I smashed the goalies face in. Didn’t think I could even kick that hard, but I cut a lip and the ball ended up rolling into the goal. Does that even count?”

“Totally counts.”

“I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

It seemed to hit him then since he was quiet about it for a moment. Jyn tried to imagine a small version of the man that she’d only known for two days, kicking a ball around with his older siblings’ friends, trying to keep up and trying to be as good as everyone else. The galaxy had kicked them both around enough times by this point, it seemed.

“Who are your friends?” she asked next.

He made a sound that she thought might’ve been a laugh, if it didn’t also sound so scathing.

“I don’t have friends.”

“Hey, neither, we have that in common.”

“Does a droid count as a friend?”

“Typically, I’d say no,” Jyn pointed out. “Needs to be flesh and blood. Capable of emotion. Company you don’t actually mind.”

He was silent for a while.

“Jyn, I think you’re my only friend.”

Something stabbed her in her chest, her heart clenching. “Don’t say that.”

“You asked.”

“We’re not friends,” she attempted to argue. “I met you two days ago.”

“You’re flesh and blood. I at least think you’re capable of emotion,” He squeezed her leg affectionately. “and believe it or not, but I don’t mind your company. Not at all.”

Jyn moved her arms, using a hand to press down hard over her eyes until she saw spots.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“I don’t mind your company either.” She was still here, which really said something. Guess they were friends after all, but friends didn’t look at each other like he looked at her. Friends didn’t push each other up against the bedroom wall, kissing down each other’s jaws. Friends didn’t sit in each other’s laps, legs wrapped around waists while they discussed the best types of food. Friends didn’t bend each other over the edge of the bed or talk about their childhoods while almost naked or kiss like the galaxy was about to explode, but they did all of those things. They were something a little beyond friends, and it was something that she didn’t want to look at too closely.

Her mark was stinging.

“If we didn’t have these,” She moved her leg, jostling his hold on her. He let go while she very gently moved her toes so that she could nudge him against the side of his neck. Where his stars were. “Would we still be here?”

He let out a breath. “Jyn. Don’t think about it.”

“Can’t help it. I am.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want to talk about this until we had to. We still have another day–”

“Another day of playing pretend,” Jyn pointed out. “Another day pretending that we’ve just naturally connected, but seriously, just try and tell me that we’d still be here if we didn’t have these marks.”

“Honestly,” Cassian huffed, clearly trying to contain any bitterness with little success. “Do you really think that your mark is the only reason I like you?”

“Kriff, you actually like me now?”

“ _Of course I karking_ –” He broke off into a few curse words that she didn’t recognise, suddenly moving. He sat up straight, leaning against the headboard now and her leg was forced to move until it lay splayed over him. Reluctantly she sat up too, now eye-to-eye with the face that had first seen her in a cantina and smiled. He didn’t touch her, despite her sitting in his lap. He kept his hands to himself and she folded her arms across her chest.

“Jyn,” He fought to keep his voice steady. “the marks are just there. They always are. But your mark doesn’t control how witty you are, or how insightful, how caring or how fucking  _beautiful_  you are. Even if your mark meant nothing to me, I’d still want you here.”

Problem was it was how she felt as well.

“I’ve always hated this mark,” she gestured harshly at her thigh. “I hate the whole system, I hate everything it does.”

“I guess I never tried to think about it,” Cassian answered slowly.

“I always told myself that if I ever met my soulmate, I’d run a mile.”

“What changed?”

Jyn couldn’t meet his eyes. “I met you, apparently.”

He was watching her, she knew he was. She should’ve climbed off him, should’ve dressed as quickly as possible and walked out the door but the truth was she didn’t want to. She instead just leaned forward hesitantly and slowly, lightly pressed her lips against the side of his neck that wasn’t tattooed with stars. She kept her arms folded, she didn’t touch him, she just… wanted him to know. That this went against everything she’d ever told herself, but that if his mark didn’t exist she’d still want to be here too. Two days wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to talk and find out about each other, and apparently that was enough. He sighed, his arms snaking around her and eventually she untangled hers to wrap around his shoulders.

For a while, they just held each other, Jyn’s face still pressed into his neck. His hands caressed her back and she honestly could’ve fallen asleep except there were still things she wanted to know. “Ok, so you don’t have any friends, but tell me about this droid,” she tried to keep her tone light as she pulled away. Cassian leaned back against the headboard of the bed, hands left curling around her hips. Jyn’s fingers traced patterns over his stomach.

“He’s a KX Imperial droid. You’d probably try and shoot him on sight,” he smiled a little. “He caught me trying to steal an impounded cruiser several years ago. I managed to shut him down, but I realised he had information on him that was vital to the mission at the time. I ended up taking him with me and reprogramming him so that I could get it, and I don’t know, just… ended up keeping him, I guess.”

“You reprogrammed an Imperial droid without it killing you in the process,” Jyn raised an eyebrow, admittedly a little impressed.

“It took a while,” Cassian wrinkled his nose.

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

Jyn whistled.

Cassian seemed happy with that reaction. “He’s currently waiting back on our shuttle. Probably wondering what the hell I’m doing.”

“When were you supposed to leave this hellhole?”

“Technically the night we met, but we’re not exactly on a tight schedule at the moment.”

“Surprised your droid hasn’t come crashing in by now.”

“I told him to delay. Still, he doesn’t like not knowing and this planet keeps melting his joints.”

“Fair enough, I think even my joints are melting.”

“You look fine to me.” 

“Get me hot enough…” Jyn only meant it as a diss to the Karaian weather, but Cassian apparently heard the innuendo in it. He looked at her like he might to take it as a challenge and Jyn only managed to roll her eyes once before he leaned forward and kissed her passionately. She didn’t have any complaints about that. She’d thought that after two days of near-constant sex that she might be finally worn out, but he stroked her tongue and his hands dipped inside her underwear and she was apparently proven wrong. Before she could think he was flipping her, shoving her down into the mattress and she made an indignant sound as his body pressed against hers.

“That honestly wasn’t a challenge,” she murmured into his mouth.

“Too bad.” 

* * *

 

That evening they actually ventured out. 

Mostly because of their need to find food, and the fact that the weather got at least marginally cooler once the suns went down. The Karaian streets apparently came alive with the darkness. Lanterns were strung up between shops and criss-crossed the roads above them, bathing everything in an orange glow. A night market took over the central square, stalls set up in meandering rows. The sounds of sizzling meats and a local band playing live music somewhere assaulted them as they neared. Jyn hadn’t been sure how to act at first, now that they had left the room. They technically weren’t officially anything, yet she still found herself wanting to reach out, wanting to be close without resorting to clinging to his shirt. Luckily, he took her hand and didn’t let go. A crowd of young locals rushed past them, and she felt his grip tighten around her fingers.

“If this is too crowded, we can leave,” she mentioned, lightly.

He shook his head. “Crowds are good.”

“Blending in.”

“Easier to disappear.” He glanced down at her and they ended up exchanging equally perplexed looks.  _Where did this person come from,_ they said.  _Who is this person who is so like me?_

To try and gloss over this, Jyn quickly pointed out the nearest stall, whose selling point appeared to be meat on a stick. “I don’t know what the hell that is, but it smells great,” she pointed out.

They got two, Jyn casually mentioning that she’d learned not to be so picky about food and Cassian similarly complaining about the state of the food that the Alliance served them. She ended up nudging him hard with her elbow when she noticed a pair of Stormtroopers patrolling at the edge of the square and warning him not to be so loud. “It’s fine,” Cassian said. “That’s why I was here. Recruiting,” he added at her questioning look.

“Karaiah is mostly occupied, right?”

“ _Recently_ occupied, that’s the key point,” Cassian eyed the Stormtroopers warily. “Nobody cares when your home isn’t being invaded, but as soon as the ‘troopers move in, suddenly everyone’s on the verge of revolt. Perfect time to recruit.”

“You sound bitter about it.”

“I guess I wish more people did something before it got to this point.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fest.”

She winced. She didn’t know a lot about the planet, but it was highly-spread knowledge that it had been one of the first places to come under Imperial control. She had to wonder whether that was how he saw her. As one of those people who didn’t care, not unless it was directly affecting them. She cared,  _Jyn Erso fucking cared_ , but it was hard when no one cared about her in return. Not the Empire, not even the Alliance…

“Seriously, give these people even the slightest opening, and they’d riot,” Cassian carried on, pointedly.

Jyn stayed silent, and luckily he didn’t seem to want to bring it up again. She didn’t want to think about Stormtroopers and wars and riots, so they just walked and ate and then when they were finished, stood and watched a young Karaian girl sing in exchange for credit coins and chips in her hat. She had a good voice, one that carried out and gathered a small audience, and Jyn leaned and rested her head against Cassian’s shoulder. He let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, despite the heat making their skin sticky. They stayed close and Jyn honestly didn’t understand this kind of intimacy. Intimacy was usually a rather dangerous game. 

But he held her tight and it was enough for now. 

The night market grew more and more busy and bustling, to the point where it was a battle just to get through to the middle where the large clock tower stood. Buskers drew out even more crowds, kids dodged around legs, and there appeared to even be an old man who was handing out unsolicited advice to anyone who accidentally crossed his path. “Oh, lord, Farrah’s coming!” she heard someone say behind her, and she noticed the wide berth that everyone was giving the old, wizened man as he cut through the crowd. 

“We might want to move,” Jyn pointed out, only Cassian heard her too late. They apparently weren’t quick enough to get out of the way and they ended up getting accosted by who seemed to be a well-known identity around here.

“Young love!” he barked at them, waving his cane towards their arms around each other. “It won’t last!”

“Erm, Sir, I think you have us confused–” Cassian tried.

“Nonsense!” The man actually batted Cassian with the cane, and the rebel soldier was apparently too surprised to say anything else. Jyn pressed her lips together in an attempt not to laugh. “Boy, she might be a little pretty thing now, but everything has it’s time. Be prepared to kick her to the curb!”

Amused as she was at first... it was then that Jyn saw the mark. At least she thought it was his mark. It decorated the back of the hand that held his cane, except it wasn’t black like hers was. It was red and angry, scarred over, and she’d always heard about this happening but had only actually seen it a handful of times. Most people liked to keep these things secret.

“Your soulmate died.”

It blurted out of her mouth before she could even think to keep quiet. Cassian nudged her hastily, but the man turned his piercing eyes on her. It was a surprisingly hard look for someone who was apparently crazy.

“He damn well did, the bastard,” the man apparently had no problem keeping this to himself.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be kriffing sorry, sorry does nothing!” the man exclaimed. “Just do yourself a favour and forget about this one while you have the chance.” He knocked Cassian around the legs with his cane again.

Jyn felt her stomach churning. 

“Isn’t it better to have spent at least some time with your soulmate than not at all?” she asked. 

The man just watched her far too closely for her liking.

“Come back and ask me that question once he’s dead,” the man said, flatly.

* * *

 

“I think it’s just too hot on this planet,” Cassian said lightly, once they had managed to shake the man off. “The heat is getting to some people.”

“Mmmm…” Jyn murmured noncommittedly, but her brain was working too hard. It was buzzing, it was  _screaming_ , and she wanted to forget. They agreed, they weren’t going to talk about this until they had to! She suddenly pulled on his hand, dragging him through the crowd. She heard snatches of conversation, kids laughing, Stormtroopers reporting back to their commanding officers down their comms, and she ignored it all to pull Cassian into the side street that came off the square. It wasn’t really any less busy there, but she honestly didn’t care who saw. She pulled him to the side of the street, roughly yanking him down to her lips. Cassian’s fingers curled into her shirt, but she could still feel his confusion.

“Is this about what the man said?” he whispered.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He must have recognised something in her voice, something that told him to not ask questions and just do it. He picked her up under her thighs, moving until her back was pressed against the hot brick wall. It burned, but then again, so did he. She kissed with teeth, with vigour. Since the first time, Jyn had been careful to avoid the stars on his neck. Cassian treated her mark almost with reverence, rarely keeping his attention away from it, but she resolutely stayed away.

She wasn’t careful this time.

She broke away from his lips to kiss the tender spot just under his ear. He gave a kind of strangled gasp. “Jyn–”

“If you don’t want me to, just say,” she whispered into his skin.

“ _I want you to_.”

See, if she thought about it, the man’s words would come back to her. She couldn’t think. She traced a star with her tongue, scraped her teeth against the lines that connected them all, stardust,  _stardust_. She was being too rough, she knew, but he didn’t complain. She tightened her legs around him, threaded a hand through his hair, pulling lightly. She would kiss until reality kicked in.

“Hey! You two!” a Stormtrooper suddenly barked.

Jyn was practically dropped back onto her feet. Cassian hastily backed away from her as Jyn remembered that as hidden as they’d been, they were still technically in public. The Stormtrooper looked like they were about to report them, but she called out, “Sorry!” and pulled on Cassian’s sleeve to run before they could. They kept running, through the heat and the dust, and didn’t stop until they had reached the inn once more.

“I’m sorry –  _I’m sorry_ –” Jyn panted once they slowed down. She rested a hand against the door to the building, head hanging down, trying to fight back the stinging behind her eyes. This was ridiculous, but she’d only known this man two days, wouldn’t know him any longer than three, and she would have no idea what happened to him once this was over. No way of knowing until the day her mark would ultimately scar over.  _Come back and ask me that question once he’s dead_. She couldn’t do this. She was freaking out, she knew it, and she couldn’t stop it –

Cassian’s hand touched her shoulder lightly. “Hey, it’s fine,” he said, slowly. “Are you ok?”

No. No, she wasn’t.

“Yes – take me to bed, Cassian.”

He did, and he must have felt her desperation. She tried to hold back, but she held him too tight, kissed him too hard, and fucked him like it was the last time. He didn’t say anything.

She didn’t touch his mark again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 2 YALL 
> 
> Now that I've written more, I feel like it all should've been posted in one go, like in parts this feels a little disjointed to me?? But oh well. CAN'T CHANGE THE PAST. I seriously hope you guys all liked it and seriously, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the comments on the first chapter!! I literally was not expecting so many and I'm ahjdhjfkjdkjg just thank you. I love you guys. 
> 
> Have a happy new year, and as always come scream at me on tumblr: @moonprincess92nz   
> MUCH LOVE   
> xoxo


	3. Part 3

When she woke on day three, his arms were heavy around her.

You were vulnerable in sleep. Too often she heard or saw others get stabbed or robbed in their unconsciousness, to the point where she now slept with a hand on her vibroblade and the ability to wake up at the slightest hint of movement. But right now, her vibroblade had to be on the other side of the room somewhere, still hidden inside her jacket, and she hadn’t thought about it for days. She’d been woken apparently by a commlink that she assumed belonged to Cassian buzzing on the nightstand, and she quickly reached out to shut it off before it woke him. He was pressed against her back, arm clinging a little around her and for a second, she let herself lie there. Let herself be held.

But it was day three and in the next second, she was gently peeling his arm away.

She’d hoped to escape before he saw her. She would hate herself for it, but she much preferred the idea of leaving without having to say goodbye, of getting the hell off this planet before he even realised she was gone. It would hurt, but it would be easier. Unfortunately, he woke just as she was collecting her scarf, gloves and weapons belt, intending on putting them on once she was several streets away.

“Jyn?”

She froze, closing her eyes.

She didn’t turn around, but she didn’t have to. She knew that he would be sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, his mark somehow standing out even darker against his skin. He sighed like he wasn’t surprised.

“Ok,” he said, voice scratchy and tired. “ok.”

She still didn’t move.  _She couldn’t_.

“I’m sorry. I wish…”

“I know,” he cut in. “me too.”

Jyn made for the door, not looking forward to the blazing heat outside.  _Don’t want to leave, don’t want to stay_ , was there anything that she DID want? ( _Perhaps for the numbers across her thigh to not exist. Her parents to still be alive. A galaxy without a war_ ).

“Actually, fuck it,” She heard him moving, climbing out of bed. “Please stay.”

Great, they were doing this.

“You know my answer, Cassian.”

“Change it. Change your mind,” She turned and saw him watching her fiercely. “I’m going to be flying back to the rebellion, so just come with me. Come back with me.”

“And be a rebel?” she asked.

“You can fight,” he pointed out, stepping forward. She tensed, but didn’t move back. “You want to fight. I’ve seen it in your eyes, in what you say. There’s a rebel in you. Hell, I don’t even fucking care if you enlist or not,” He shook his head. “just  _please_ come with me.”

“You wouldn’t be asking that if you knew who I was.”

“I already know you,” he insisted. “I’ve had three days to get to know you, and I know that you’re incredible and I know that I want you to come.”

“There’s a lot of things we haven’t talked about yet,” she said, desperation colouring her voice. There were a lot of things she’d been hoping would never have to come up. 

Of course they would with time, but this wasn’t supposed to have time.

“You don’t know where I come from–”

“Try me,” he insisted.

For a second, her mouth actually opened to spit back.  _My father was an Imperial scientist. He developed weapons. He was captured fifteen years ago and I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive._ Would he arrest her or be forced to kill her on the spot? She didn’t want to find out. No one on his council would or could ever believe her, so if she went she would have to lie and despite how comfortable she was with lying, she wasn’t sure she could do it to him. So far, everything she’d ever told him was the truth. Her memories, her life, there were parts missing, but the parts he did know where real and solid and exactly who she was, and she couldn’t go back from that.

“I don’t want to lie to you,” she said, hoarsely.

“So don’t.”

“It’s not that simple, Cassian–”

“I know it’s not,” he threw out, agitated. “I of all fucking people that it’s not that simple, but guess what, you’re one of the very few people in the entire galaxy who even knows my real name, so don’t fucking talk to me like it’s impossible.”

It was tempting.  _So tempting_. As much as she held onto this life of running and hiding, she knew that she was running on empty. It wasn’t practical, it wasn’t ideal, she was going to get either killed or thrown into prison at some point and honestly she wasn’t sure she could do prison again. She’d had enough offences by this point that she would surely get thrown in Wobani or worse, and that wasn’t a place you even wanted to survive. The rebellion might not agree with her, might not like her inability to follow orders, but at the end of the day it would feed and clothe her and maybe with Cassian backing her up they might just believe her. Cassian wouldn’t care who her father was. He would be with her and she could almost taste the idea…

But she saw the stars on his neck.

_Stardust_.

_Come back and ask me that question once he’s dead._

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, before turning and fleeing out the door before she could stop herself.

* * *

 

It was fine. It would be ok.

She would just think of this as that one time she spent three days with who could have been her soulmate, if she’d have let him.  Three days of talking, laughing and fucking. That was all, and it was nice, but it was time to leave and move on now, time to carry on surviving. She didn’t exactly run through the streets of Karaiah’s main capital. It was too hot for that, the air so syrupy that it felt like she was swimming, the ground cracking underneath her boots, but she did hurry. She needed to put as much distance between them as possible, as soon as possible.

She angrily swiped her sleeve over her red eyes.

The captain she had ridden in with had told her to meet the ship back in the hangar where they’d originally landed three days ago. She half expected him to not be there, but she wasn’t late, and he’d apparently (incredibly) kept to his word. She found the Correlian man and his Wookiee friend still hastily reloading once she’d used her fake scandocs to get inside the hangar. She didn’t even want to know what it was that they had smuggled in and were now apparently smuggling out. She coughed to make herself known, and the captain straightened from where he was hauling crates up the loading ramp, smirking down at her.

“Well, well, well. You turned up,” he said.

She heard the genuine surprise in there. Maybe he’d been hoping that she would find a better ride out of here somehow, or that she had died from heat exhaustion in the streets. He clearly hadn’t been expecting her to turn back up again, but she was getting her guaranteed ride out, damn it. The captain hadn’t even told her his name, figuring it was best they stayed as need-to-know as possible, and Jyn was starting to appreciate that concept.

“And I’m ready to get out of here,” she said shortly, taking in the crates they were moving. “What’s left?” 

“Sweetheart, you’re not handling any of this,” the captain snorted.

“Fucking try me,” Jyn snarled.

He must have dealt with that kind of tone before, because in the end he didn’t argue. The Wookiee was apparently having trouble regulating his body temperature with all the fur, so he stayed mostly within the controlled confines of the ship. That left Jyn and the captain to create an assembly line, handing crates to each other as quickly as possible so they could get out of the heat. Even she was forced to take off her jacket for the exertion, not that the captain had any problems whipping his shirt off at the same time. She might’ve rolled her eyes if she had been bothered at all.

It was only as they were loading on the last few crates and he had his back to her when she noticed it. The mark decorated his shoulder blade, an odd hybrid of symbols superimposed on top of each other. Without any other tattoos, it was clear what it was, and that the captain obviously didn’t care about hiding it. Despite her better judgement, she nudged the current crate in her arms against his legs, standing next to the loading ramp and waiting to pass the crate up to him.

“What the hell kind of mark do you have? Looks like someone got drunk and didn’t know what to draw.”

The captain snorted at her, accepting the crate and hauling it up. She leaned against the ramp as she tried to see. “In the middle is the symbol for the Rebel Alliance,” he thankfully humoured her.

She’d heard enough of that.

“And around the outside?”

The captain paused for a slight break, ignoring the warning growls from the Wookiee inside. He dropped down casually beside her, leaning so that she could get a closer look. It looked like a basic galactic symbol, though for what planet she didn’t know.

“I had to look it up,” the captain said in amusement. “It’s the planetary symbol for Alderaan, but a version only ever used by the royal family. I could get arrested for treason if I ever set foot there just for having it on my skin, apparently.”

“So… a rebel royal, huh?”

“Yeah, and with any luck I’ll never meet them,” the captain answered.

He slapped the ramp underneath him before clambering back to his feet and calling out to the Wookiee. Jyn had apparently been frozen to the spot. What got her was that her first immediate thought was  _but I don’t regret meeting him at all_ , and her second remembering that three days ago, she might have said the same things as the captain. Her teeth clenched at the thought of a kriffing mark doing that to her, changing her so much that she was suddenly going back on everything she’d always believed in… 

Except it wasn’t really the mark that had done that. 

He had done that. Cassian with his bearded smile and talented mouth, strong hands and quiet passion. The man who’d heard her, listened to her, walked by her side and held her hand.  _Kriff_ , why the hell had she actually left in the first place? To keep herself safe? He’d had three entire days to stab her in her sleep and he hadn’t. To protect herself? Cassian had to be the only person in the entire galaxy who hadn’t yet abandoned her like everyone else in her life had done up until this point. She was scared? She’d been scared every damn day of her life since she was eight-years-old. Fear was an old friend. An old man had reminded her that eventually, all marks scar over, everything dies, and he wasn’t wrong.

But the last three days had been worth it. 

Jyn growled a little, rubbing a hand roughly over her face. 

Then, she made the decision. 

“ _Fuck it_ ,” she muttered, before slamming down the last crate that she’d just picked up. “Hey, sorry!” she called up to the captain. “But turns out I don’t need the ride after all, I’ll see you around!”

“Huh? Hang on–” The captain hastily turned as Jyn stormed around the ramp, scooping up her jacket as she went.

“No really, it’s been real,” she said, not even pausing. “but I don’t need the ride. Good luck smuggling, have a nice life.”

The captain just shook his head. “You can’t come and go from here without the ‘troopers getting – hey! WAIT!”

His feet thundered down the ramp. Jyn didn’t stop until she was forcibly held back, the captain yanking on her shoulder.

“They already suspect smuggling,” the captain scowled in her face. “I said I’d give you a ride out, not that you could change your mind and get us all killed. You go back out there, you’re gonna get stopped as suspicious activity and that’s the only just cause they need to search this entire damn warehouse.”

“So I won’t get caught.”

“ _Stop_ –”

His voice didn’t stop her, but the sound of him drawing his blaster certainly did. From what she’d seen of the man so far, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it, only the action made the entire warehouse titter nervously. They weren’t the only ship loading in here. The warehouse was full of criminals, petty and otherwise, quickly shifting goods and wanting to head out as soon as possible, and they all stopped and stared at the sight of the captain drawing his blaster on the woman who was trying to walk away from him.

A Mandalorian man called out to him from the next ship over. 

“Solo, don’t be stupid–”

“You want to get sold out?” the captain threw back.

“No, but think,” the Mandalorian stepped forward, hand on something at his waist. “nothing else will make the ‘troopers come running faster than you shooting a karking blaster in here.”

Another low growl from the Wookiee.

“Besides,” the Mandalorian added, and Jyn suddenly realised what it was he was thumbing at his waist. A vibroblade. “you know there are quieter ways to handle this.”

Jyn didn’t rather like her odds on the best of days. Even when it wasn’t approximately 50 to 1, she counted each breath as her last, but like hell was this going to be how she went. Deciding she’d rather take her chances, she let out a loud, piercing scream before anyone could stop her.

The reaction was instantaneous. Outside, security jumped to attention at once, while the captain in front of her panicked. His shot slammed into her shoulder before she could move and she swore bitterly at the burning pain. She didn’t have time to express her outrage, however as that was about when dozens of Stormtroopers thundered in. Suddenly, all she heard was screaming, yelling, ships firing up and a Wookiee roaring. Shit.  _Double shit_. She might have misjudged this plan. Her shoulder was killing her, but she shoved it aside to still pull her truncheons. She was getting the hell out of here.

She ran. Mostly it was just pushing through the chaos, getting shoved from all angles. The first Stormtrooper that tried to stop her she jammed an elbow into before she could even think. She brought her truncheon down and smashed his helmet in, forcing her way through. She leapt over a load of boxes, hitting the concrete floor on the other side and rolling back to her feet. She kept running. Near the warehouse doors, a Stormtrooper grabbed at her and she yelled as it pressed on the wound in her shoulder. It must have sensed the weakness, since the ‘trooper held down harder and used it to throw her to the hot ground outside. She bit back a scream. The ground was so hot it was burning through her clothes, but the ‘trooper slammed an armoured foot into her chest.

No.  _No!_

“This is HG-7363 calling base, I have one in custody,” his helmeted voice called into a comm. “What’s the order? Termination–?”

Her good arm was pinned under his foot as well. But not her wounded one.

In a flash, she gritted her teeth against the pain and pulled her blaster. The Stormtrooper was shot straight between a chink in his armour and collapsed next to her. Jyn scrambled from the ground, wincing at the angry red grazes that now decorated her side, the no doubt throbbing lump on the back of her head from where she’d hit the ground. She needed to move. She stooped to pick up her fallen truncheons, tucking one back into her belt and keeping her blaster in the hand of her wounded arm. She needed to get out of the streets, hide somewhere until this all died down. An Imp would take one look at her and figure she’d come right out of the warehouse.

This was all a stupid idea. Actually, more like a  _really fucking stupid_  idea. She’d gone and blown her only ride out of here, caused trouble with the Stormtroopers, gotten herself beaten up, for a man who for all she knew had already bloody left without her. She knew that she would be up and gone by this point if she’d been left in the same way. Her arms stung from the grazes, though not as much as the mark on her thigh. Still. She pushed on, ducking behind parked speeders and in doorways, until she was slipping around the open entrance to an auto garage. A powered down shuttle was hoisted up onto hydraulics, its guts spilling out as the workers had apparently abandoned the place in lieu of hiding from the carnage happening down the road. The place was empty and Jyn tucked herself underneath the receptionists counter, wincing and clutching her hurt arm to her chest.

For a moment, she wondered why the garage hadn’t just closed up, slamming the steel doors down. She got her answer moments later when the unmistakable sound of pounding footsteps rushed into the garage. “Search everywhere!” a lieutenant called out and the responding squadron of ‘troopers started fanning out. Shit, shit,  _shit_. Don’t make a sound. If she had to, she could fight her way out (she might die in the process, but she would still fight her way out damn it). Her fingers gripped tight on the blaster in her hands. She still couldn’t believe she was here doing this, how the hell was she supposed to find him again if he was gone, she didn’t have any way of contacting him, all she had was a useless mark and a grim determination –

Suddenly, a faint  _boom_ echoed throughout the garage. It made the ground shake and the desk rattle slightly above her. Jyn didn’t dare move as she heard the Stormtroopers’ boots skitter across the shaky ground. “What the hell was that?” she heard one of them say.

Another cursed. “Forget the search – locals heard about the warehouse, they’re throwing a riot in the square!”

“That travelled goddamn fast–”

“Of course it did, come on–”

Jyn waited another ten seconds after she heard the last of them peeling out. Then, she slowly stood from her spot behind the reception desk, taking stock of her slightly battered body, her throbbing blaster wound. The still decently charged blaster in her hand. She remembered walking with Cassian in that square, remembered him saying that it would only take a small trigger to set off the city that was already on the verge of exploding. She caused this. The ‘troopers would order a lockdown, arrest everyone, search everything. Cassian wouldn’t be able to get out.  _Shit_  –

Unless the Karaian’s caused so much mayhem that it was more prudent for the Empire to stand down. Hold off a lockdown, pretend to give them what they wanted so they’d at least calm the fuck down. If they won, Cassian would be ok. She may never find him again… but he’d be ok. 

What was more important? 

Jyn gritted her teeth.

Time to stage an uprising.

* * *

 

The city centre was utter chaos.

The Karaian’s had an advantage, which was they were prepared for the weather. They could tolerate the heat while the Stormtroopers struggled in their armour, clearly already suffering from heat exhaustion and lethargy. It was easy to cut through the swards of people flooding the streets, naturally flocking towards the danger than running away from it. The square seemed to be the centre of the action, and she broke through a line of bodies to see that there was a kind of bonfire being built at the base of the clock tower. She saw Stormtrooper helmets decorating the kindling, along with other stolen weapons and varying pieces of armour. One lone Karaian stood at the top of the pile, a lit flare held in his hand.

“WE WILL NOT STAND FOR TYRANNY!” he yelled.

The crowd roared.

A group of Imperial Security Bureau officers had arrived, barking out orders and Jyn heard someone yell, “Forget arresting anyone, just fucking fire!” Stormtroopers were already engaged with the crowd that had been gathering around the clock tower, and Jyn immediately shot the nearest ISB officer in the head.

She plunged into the melee. Unfortunately, it appeared that the Karaian’s weren’t exactly trained in combat. Most of them had probably never seen a battle field before, and she saw a ‘trooper aim at a young adult’s head. Jyn run and slammed into him, but the Karaian was already dead when they hit the ground. Sweat was running down her face, soaking her shirt and stinging her wound. She slammed the Stormtrooper to the ground before shooting him, spinning around and taking out another that was almost on top of her. This city was taking some serious hits. The man who stood atop the bonfire had been forced to retreat, taking cover behind the kindling. Jyn pelted for him. The battle raged on around her, but she only had eyes for the flare in his hand that was slowly burning down.

“What are you doing? Get that thing lit!” she yelled, gesturing up at the bonfire with her blaster.

The Karaian and several of his comrades stared at her. “Who the hell are you?”

“I want to get off this damn planet, that’s who – do it!”

But he was shaking his head, as were several others. “There’s too many,” he said, gravely. “This was a mistake, we’re all dying.”

“You literally have the advantage here–” Jyn fought to keep her voice from shaking. “Hell – light the fucking fire! The Stormtroopers are already melting in that armour, you make it even hotter and they’ll be forced to stand down! They give you what you want, this city lives to fight another day!”

One of the Karaian’s was laughing, shaking her head. “You’re nuts!”

Maybe she was.

She turned back to the man with the flare, before snatching it out of his hand.

“HEY.”

“Come on!” she yelled, tucking her truncheon back into her belt. It was hell on her shoulder, but she began to climb the bonfire. Her feet scrambled for any ledge to push on, one hand with a smoking flare being her only upper strength. Finally, she made it to the top, several Karaian’s from below hastily scrambling after her.

“WE WILL NOT STAND FOR TRYANNY,” Jyn screamed.

That caught a lot of attention. Most Karaian’s had been beaten into submission now, but many looked up at her call. Someone shot at her, but she dodged, nearly slipping on the unstable kindling. “This is NOT our Empire!” she added. “You track us, control us,  _kill us_ , and we’re supposed to just take it? We want to live! We want to grow old in a galaxy where we’re not scared to go outside. Some of us want to find our soulmates before our marks become scars! WE WILL NOT TAKE THIS!”

The Karaian man who she’d stolen the flare from was at her side. However, instead of ripping it back out of her hands, he hesitated. Then, slowly yet firmly, he raised his arm and held onto her. The two of them kept the flare high in the air, smoke drifting out over the square. She glanced up at his sleeveless arm and saw a winding tattoo around his bicep. Maybe his soulmate was out in the crowd somewhere.

Maybe hers was, too.

“FOR KARAIAH,” he yelled.

They slammed the flare into the bonfire.

* * *

 

The Stormtrooper helmets melted within seconds under the fire. Maybe that was what made them stand down so quickly. Trying to search through the wreckage of smoking holes, burning stalls and broken bodies seemed like a fruitless effort, but something told Jyn to keep looking. Many Karaian’s were openly weeping, lost kids running through the crowds and others on their knees as the bonfire burned. Many more were screaming,  _cheering_ – the Karaian man with the flare had hugged her before she could protest, spinning her around at the announcement of the stand down. The ISB had retreated, pulling all Stormtroopers out of the immediate area. A group of teens she noticed were pulling melted helmets from the fire, lining them up along the square amongst several hand-made signs:

_Look what happens when you mess with Karaian’s!_

It wasn’t even likely that he’d be there. Surely, he’d be hunkered down in his shuttle, waiting for the moment that he could take off? He should be gone by now, lightyears away. But still, she searched, looking at every face. Something was telling her stay, stay, you’re not far now –

“Jyn!”

She whirled around.

He staggered towards her past a group of men singing loudly in celebration. Suddenly, she could breathe properly again. She ran, ran until she was slamming into him hard. She jumped, legs clenching around his waist, her good arm looped around his neck. He laughed, but must had been injured somewhere too since his legs gave out from her sudden weight and they ended up crashing back onto the hot ground. “Ah, shit–” he broke off in a wince and she panicked slightly. 

“Did I hurt you – fuck–”

“No, no,” He shook his head, and she felt him grinning against her face. “You’re here–”

“I’m here, and I’m sorry,” Jyn was essentially sitting in his lap in the middle of the very public and open square, but Cassian didn’t seem to care, so neither did she. She threaded her fingers into his hair, pressed her forehead to his. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t do this kind of thing, but I’m sorry and–”

“It’s ok,” His breath was comforting and warm against her face. “I saw that speech.”

“Blimey,” Jyn was hot enough as it was. Her skin was sticky, flushed from the heat, exertion and now flames that dominated the entire square. She didn’t need embarrassment to be the kicker that finally made her pass out. “You did?”

“It was very inspiring.”

“I thought you’d be stuck,” she whispered. “I caused the riot, trying to get back to you, but I knew you wouldn’t be able to fly out unless the city won.”

He was quiet a moment. She could feel the lines of his blaster pressed against her back as he held her, probably noticing that she was holding one of her arms at an awkward angle and making sure to steer clear of it. Someone who was trying to come back should have wanted him to stay stuck on this planet with nowhere to go. More time for her to find him.

But it wasn’t about her. What it came down to was that she cared a fuckload for him, and not because of a stupid mark on his neck… maybe that was why he was staring at her like that.

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

She barely had time to breathe before he had pressed his lips to hers. He pulled her in tight, kissing her like three suns and a bonfire weren’t currently bearing down on them. She was burning, and laughing, and eventually she was forced to pull back to say,

“I’d keep kissing you, but I’m also dying out here.”

“Ah – right–” Awkwardly, they both moved to picked themselves up from the ground. Jyn didn’t feel comfortable holstering her blaster just yet, but she dusted herself off as best she could, glanced up at Cassian to see him watching her, at her side. Waiting. Always waiting.

He waited for her.

“If the offer still stands…can I come with you?” she asked, voice hitching slightly. 

He held out his hand.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEYYYYYYYYYY   
> I know this says 3/3 but tell me if you think it needs an epilogue or something to know that they eventually made it back to the rebellion and lived Happily Ever After, bc I kinda think it does???? But idk. Either way, i hope this wasn't too full on for one chapter, I hope I wrote it ok, I HOPE YALL LIKED IT!!!! PLEASE TELL ME!! 
> 
> I enjoyed the Han cameo waaaaay too much. Just imagine in the future when they meet again after ANH at Yavin, and Jyn's all "YOU'RE THE FUCKHEAD WHO SHOT ME!!!!!" and Han's all "Hahahahaha....shit?" 
> 
> Thank you so so much for being supportive of this fic, I love you guys!!!   
> xoxo


	4. Epilogue

**SOMETIME LATER…**

They debated going to the award ceremony.

It seemed ridiculous when one of them could barely walk anyway and the other refused to leave their side, no matter what some skinny droid said. They’d been through enough at this point that Jyn wanted nothing more than to crawl into Cassian’s hospital bed with him and sleep for the next year or so. Her heart still irrationally pounded when she remembered the  _hiss SLAM_  of the blaster bolt hitting flesh, the sickening crunch of Cassian’s body as he fell into the data vault. She hadn’t been sure what was a worse concept: him dying or her knowing that he wasn’t dead but being unable to do a damn thing about it because the plans hanging from her belt were a thousand times more important than her husband…

No. They had better things to do than go to a stupid ceremony.

“… Jyn?”

Her head jerked as she startled back awake out of her half-doze. Slumped over Cassian’s bed, she glanced up to see he was awake already. “Are you seriously ever going to leave?” he asked lightly, reaching out as far as he could and running a hand through the matted hair that had come out of her bun.

“When you do,” she answered, turning and kissing his fingers quickly before his hand could drop away. “I spoke to the Head Medic, she says you could be discharged in time for the ceremony, but I still don’t think we should go.”

“Jyn.”

“No, don’t  _Jyn_  me,” she rolled her eyes, although there was no vice in her voice. “Just after everything…”

It had been a hell of a year.

They’d been through battlefields and prison breaks and somehow, their marks were still yet to scar over. They’d come close, though. She wasn’t sure why she’d even been surprised that the High Council hadn’t initially believed in her decision to assemble Rogue One. Her first three days with the Rebel Alliance she had spent thrown in a prison cell while Cassian argued himself hoarse over her release. She’d considered enlisting with a fake name, but eventually figured that the truth would come out and honestly… she was tired of lying. Tired of being someone she wasn’t, tired of always trying to run from the past and so she had told the truth. Eventually they had trusted her word that she really hadn’t seen her father in years and that she was in no way loyal to the Empire, but she was sure that without Cassian on her side she would still be in that cell.

Though in the end, she supposed it was a good thing she’d told the truth. With Cassian out cold for several days after limping home from Scarif, she’d had far too much time to think. And remember. Whenever she closed her eyes she remembered her long-lost father’s face, and not the friendly one from her youth that would smile and kiss her goodnight, but the old and weathered one that had died right in front of her on a rain-soaked platform…

She glanced up at Cassian, whose hand and arm she clung to in her doze. Before Scarif, life had been almost  _good_. Sometimes fighting for the rebellion was just as bad as when she had been living life on the fringes of society: no purpose, no sense that what she was doing was actually helping at all, no end ever in sight. But every day Cassian was there. He was there on the missions that they refused to do without each other, he was there when she was exhausted and needed arms around her, he was there in their bed at night, warm and blinding and always,  _always_  enough. 

He sighed, hand reaching for her once more. She let him stroke her face lightly, eyes closing.

“They just want to acknowledge what we did for them.”

“But they want to acknowledge that  _now_ , of all times,” Jyn scoffed a little. “We’ve done more for this rebellion than anyone else in Intelligence and all I get in return is snarky report confirmations from Draven and one murdered father!”

He winced at that, at least. They hadn’t really talked about it yet, there never really being a good time to bring it up in amongst all the painkillers and bacta treatments and honestly, Jyn wasn’t even really sure that she  _wanted_  to bring it up. At least Draven had had the sense to not order Cassian to assassinate his wife’s father. No, it had been some other Intelligence officer who’d been assigned to the mission, who had accompanied Jyn first to Jedha and then to Eadu, eventually taking a punch to the face when Jyn had found out what their orders actually were (and honestly not really giving a damn when the Alliance bombers had swooped in and he’d been killed in the process. Collateral damage, right?).

“I’m – sorry –” Cassian rubbed his face.

“No, wait – I didn’t meant to say…” She groaned a little. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet, I don’t think.”

“I’ll be here when you do.”

“I know,” Jyn said, softly. She watched him watching her, with hard, broken eyes that deserved far better than what they got and she sighed. “Ok, fine. I guess… going to this ceremony wouldn’t be so bad.”

He chuckled a little. “We really don’t have to go–”

“No, no – I’ve made up my mind now, we’re going,” She gestured behind her to the nearest droid with the intention of getting him discharged as quickly as possible. “If anything, it’ll get you out of here and I’ll at least get to piss off Draven by looking smug with a medal around my neck.”

* * *

 

Cassian could walk, though not without a significant limp and a certain amount of pain. He leaned on her heavily, arm around her shoulders, as they hobbled into the large and spacious awards hall. Jyn wouldn’t have guessed that the rebellion could afford such ponce before she’d joined, but now it didn’t surprise her that they took every opportunity they could to make a huge fuss. Anything to keep soldiers motivated. The crowd of military uniforms, clean faces and brushed hair made her flinch a little.

“Do you know anything about these other soldiers receiving medals?” Cassian asked her as they waited.

“Only the rumours that have been going around – apparently the plans we transmitted got stored on a droid for safekeeping and some kid on Tattooine found it and brought it back to the rebellion? I was still mostly out for all of this happening.”

“And the Death Star?” Cassian’s teeth were gritted together painfully.

Jyn leaned her head against his shoulder. “Kid blew it up, apparently.”

She honestly couldn’t describe the emotions in her. It was almost too much to handle – her father’s legacy, her father dying, the Death Star, Stardust,  _her stardust_  – so for now she was functioning by shoving it all out of the way into the back of her mind. Maybe she would pull it out again much later, once she wasn’t so fucked up.

One of the generals approached the two of them then, looking uncomfortable in the high-collared jacket and pins, but addressing them respectfully and happily. “Captain Andor! Sergeant Erso!” he called out, waving an arm. “Come over here, when the assembly starts you need to be ready to – wait,  _kriff_ –” he cut himself off, eyes wide as he watched them limp over. “–will you be able to–?”

“We can walk,” Cassian ground out, quickly.

The general nodded. “Of course. Have you met Skywalker and Solo yet? Come–”

Quite honestly, Jyn didn’t make the connection. She’d only heard the name offhand once a year ago and she’d had much bigger problems going on at the time to actually take it in. They moved over to the small group that had gathered at the edge of the hall, the centre of attention apparently being the two young men in the middle. Honestly, the presence of the hulking Wookiee should have also tipped her off, but truthfully Jyn didn’t realise who she was about to meet until he was turning around and facing her head on.

She felt the wound in her shoulder like it was yesterday.

“YOU’RE THE FUCKER WHO SHOT ME,” she barked in outrage.

Han Solo’s face fell upon noticing who it was and clearly, he remembered her as well. Everyone stared as he held up his hands.  

“I, uh–”

Jyn didn’t even give him a chance to explain. She left Cassian where he stood, leaping forward to hurl a fist straight into Han’s face. She gave it everything that her battle-wary bones had. He staggered with a yell and a collective gasp spread through the group, though no one stopped her in her fury.

The Wookiee actually laughed.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?”

Jyn whirled around at the princess’ words. Usually clad in something a bit more practical, Leia Organa looked about as regal as she ever got in her long ceremonial gown and elaborate up-do. Jyn rolled her eyes, but let her friend take control of the situation while Luke Skywalker apparently killed himself trying not to laugh and Han hastily scrambled back upright, hand letting go of the rapidly developing bruise against his cheek and eye.

“Sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like,” he drawled.

“Damn right it isn’t!” Jyn yelled. “This bastard fucking SHOT me and caused a riot that nearly got us all killed!”

“Hey, technically YOU started that–” he threw back.

“JUST FUCKING TRY ME–”

“Ok!” Leia yelled, getting in between them. Jyn knew that her friend had also been through a lot the last several days. Through her haze in the medbay, she’d been informed that the princess had been declared MIA and subsequently returned to the rebellion within a few days and she still didn’t really have any details on all that had happened. The woman still somehow managed to have enough presence that she could surely command the entire room if she wanted. Jyn backed off immediately, at least satisfied that she’d finally gotten back at the idiot who was apparently esteemed smuggler and now rebellion hero, Han Solo.

“Not that I’m not sure there aren’t scorned women across the galaxy who all deserve to punch you in the face,” Leia rolled her eyes. “but now really isn’t the time.”

“I wouldn’t come within ten feet of him,” Jyn pointed out.

“Yeah, I just gave her a ride,” Han, to her surprise, seemed a little too keen to explain as well to the princess. “onto some hell planet in the Mid-Rim. She caused a scene trying to back out.”

“You, YOU caused a scene!”

“You were going to get us all killed!”

“I would have snuck out, you were the one who went all trigger-happy–”

“What was I supposed to do? I had to shut you up somehow!”

“I nearly lost my husband because of you!”

“Husband?” Han glanced around in bewilderment at this point being brought up, and his eyes landed on Cassian barely holding himself upright behind her. Jyn hastily darted back to his side, keeping him from keeling over and he saw Han’s eyes quickly dart up to the very obvious mark on Cassian’s neck.

He snorted.

“Is that why you asked about my mark?” he asked.

“Ok, this got kinda personal,” Luke Skywalker pointed out in amusement.

“I agree – and the ceremony is about to start, so if we could PLEASE keep all violence and personal conversations until afterwards, that would be fantastic,” Leia pointed out. Jyn rolled her eyes, but agreed as someone called out a call to attention. She noticed that Leia uncomfortably moved past Han Solo, refusing to meet his eye and Jyn gave her a questioning look.

“Just get back in line, Sergeant,” Leia shot back, fondly.

“… I can’t believe that’s the same guy,” Cassian muttered to her as they obediently fell into line. “The day you left… he’s seriously the one who shot you?”

“Seriously,” Jyn glanced up at him. “That idiot was supposed to be my ride out. Until I changed my mind, of course.”

“Thanks for doing that, by the way.”

Jyn just turned and pressed her face into his sleeve. It wasn’t quite a kiss. Outside of their bedroom, they weren’t exactly comfortable with displaying that kind of affection, but sometimes they threw caution to the wind. Everyone quite famously knew that they were together anyway.

Then tended to happen when you get married three months after first meeting each other.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

 

Jyn had every intention of drinking her own body weight in alcohol at the after party, or at least she would have if she hadn’t had so many drugs and painkillers still in her system.

“I don’t even know what to do with this,” Jyn was pointing out to Cassian, thumbing her medal, when Leia finally managed to waylay her in amongst the party. There was a sense of urgency when she appeared from no where and clamped down onto her arm.

“Can we talk?”

“Sorry, Cassian,” Jyn said. “It doesn’t feel like I have much choice here.”

Cassian seemed content to let Leia drag her away through the crowd. At least she went slowly, thankfully knowing to accommodate for Jyn’s still-healing injuries and the ringing in her head from all the noise. She finally stopped near a sparse corner of the hall, turning to face her head on. 

She always liked that about Leia.

“Tell me everything you know about Han Solo,” she demanded.

“Nice to see you alive too,” Jyn scoffed.

Leia huffed, but pulled her into her arms nonetheless. Jyn hadn’t had a lot of time to worry over her friend’s life, but it was starting to catch up with her and she knew now that if anything had happened, she would be willing to start more than just riots to avenge her. Jyn squeezed back tightly, before pulling away.

“Now why the hell do you want to know about Han Solo?”

“Do you know what happened on the Death Star?”

“Cassian and I only just got released from medbay, we only know rumours.”

Leia told her the whole story. About Obi-wan Kenobi, about being held and tortured, about Alderaan and about a half-assed rescue attempt by some far-too-enthusiastic farmboy and his less-than-reluctant companion. Jyn listened as best she could until she eventually had to cut in.

“Leia.  _Why_ do you want to know about Han Solo?”

Leia glanced around. Jyn eyed her in confusion when she subtly pulled up the hem of her dress, though quickly understood what she was doing when she glanced down. Usually in sensible boots of some kind, Leia was in some kind of strappy sandle today and it was perfect for showing off the mark that was tattooed over her ankle.

“Shit. Is that…?” Jyn’s eyes widened.

Leia hastily dropped the hem of her dress.

“A tattoo of the hunk of rubbish that he calls a ship? Yes.”

“Is that your–?”

“Would I be asking if it wasn’t?”

Jyn felt like laughing. She remembered Han whipping off his shirt, remembered asking about the weird symbol on his back. The Rebel Alliance. The Alderaanian symbol used only by the royal family.

“He’s your goddamn soulmate.”

“Don’t talk so loud!” Leia hissed, although there was absolutely no chance of being overheard here. “I don’t… look, I don’t know what to think. I just… I need to know about him.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I don’t really know him at all,” Jyn pointed out. “and you got the part where he shot me, right?”

“So he’s not to be trusted?”

“Leia!” Jyn rubbed her eyes. “He rescued you from an Imperial battle station! Yes, he shot me in a panic a year ago, but you probably know him better than I do at this point.”

Leia closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. And then she asked:

“How do you know when you’ve met your soulmate?”

Jyn’s heart clenched. In the entire year they’d known each other, they’d never actually  _said_  the term before. It was implied, she supposed. They knew that it was how the galaxy understood them, she knew that’s what everyone else thought he was to her, but it was just a term that they pointedly avoided.  _Soulmates_  sounded too final. Sounded too out of her control. She didn’t marry Cassian because of a mark on her thigh, she had married him because she wanted to. 

Did that make him her soulmate? 

“You know when you decide you have.”

“That helps,” Leia muttered.

“That mark doesn’t control you, Leia,” Jyn told her. “It’s more of a… suggestion. You decide what you want to do, and only you.”

“You decided to follow yours.”

“And I was terrified,” Jyn added. “but you don’t have to have it all figured out. I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re married.”

“Yeah, and I swear I still I have no idea how that happened,” The conversation had first come up when someone had already accidentally assumed they were married. Jyn had been rather vehemently opposed to the idea (they’d known each other three months,  _three months_ ) and Cassian had hastily agreed to not bring it up again.

Only Jyn had gritted her teeth and asked him to marry her not even a day later.

Leia’s gaze had drifted slightly across the hall. Han Solo stood amongst several rebel soldiers, entertaining them all with what appeared to be a wildly exaggerated re-telling of the battle. He had a drink in his hand and laughed too loud, but Leia’s eyes softened ever so slightly before she let out a disgusted scoff.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Not gonna argue with you there.”

Leia laughed slightly. “Look… thank you. I’m glad you’re not dead, Jyn.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead, too.”

* * *

“So what did Leia want?”

“You’ll never guess –  _shit_ –” she broke off with a curse as she attempted to change. Scarif had re-opened what felt like every injury she’d ever received, and though bacta had managed to fix a lot of the damage, the severe sprain of her right shoulder made it difficult to even raise her arm, let alone change by herself. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears of pain.

Slowly, she felt Cassian move closer to her.

“Come here.”

She stayed still. She let him carefully move her limbs until he was pulling her shirt off over her head, and she murmured a thank you to him in response. He just smiled and grazed his fingers against her shoulder. “Anyway,” Jyn said as they carried on undressing. “Turns out that Leia and Solo are fucking soulmates.”

“You’re kidding. The guy who shot you and the princess?”

“Now there’s a title.”

“How do you know?”

“Leia showed me her mark. And I’ve seen Solo’s… unwillingly, but still.”

Cassian seemed to be processing this as he gingerly sat down on the bed. Their medals had been discarded for the nightstand and it honestly felt strange to be back in their room like nothing had ever happened. For some reason, Jyn felt like it should be… she didn’t know. Different, somehow? She knew that she was changed, at least, like how dare the world still look the same when  _her_  world had been tipped on its axis? She slowly crossed the room and clambered into bed alongside Cassian, trying not to jostle him too much. 

“Solo said that you asked him about his mark,” Cassian said once they were settled. His voice sounded calm, but Jyn knew him well enough to know that there was a lot happening underneath it.

“I guess I was trying to figure out if it was all worth it.”

“And was it?”

“I came back to you, didn’t I?” Jyn said, turning her head towards him.

He turned as well at that, their faces inches from each other.

“I love you.”

“Gross,” Jyn said and he reached out to whack her lightly. “Hey, that first night we met, in the cantina… I kept smiling at you, but you never came over. I had to go hit on you.” 

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” 

“You still slept with me.” 

“Fair point. You never asked a question.” 

Jyn reached up between them, softly touching the stars on his neck. She ran her fingers over the points and quietly asked, “Did this stop you?” 

“Visible marks are hard,” Cassian said. “I didn’t know whether you were one of those people who cared or not.” 

“I didn’t even know you had a mark until we started talking.” 

He looked at her then like he honestly didn’t have the words to express what was running through his head. He had looked at her like that when they had signed the documents that made them legally married. Jyn leaned in and kissed him, softly at first and aware of his injuries, but quickly pressing deeper. He curled his arm under her, rolling her onto her side and towards him, hand flat against her back. It remained relatively tame until she snaked her hands under his waistband, and he hastily pulled back. 

“Jyn – it’s been a long week – we really shouldn’t –” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered. Her hands respectfully retreated so that she could trace the muscles and scars of his stomach instead. It didn’t seem to help him much. “None of it. My father, Scarif, the Death Star – we can deal with it later.” 

“It’s a bad idea,” he warned. Kind of in contrast to him gripping her tighter. 

“I know.” 

“You’re still sore. My leg –” 

“We can work around it.” 

“Mmm…” He rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him and taking the pressure off his leg. “This isn’t the way to deal with everything.” 

“When has that ever stopped us?” 

He kissed her, which effectively put an end to it. She leaned on her one good arm, hand threading into his hair and grateful for this chance to forget. His arms moved from gripping her hips to hugging tight around her like he coudln’t quite decide how much to hold back. They’d both nearly  _died,_  after all. Eventually, he settled for pulling off the sleep shirt that he’d helped put on her earlier. From there they were slow to undress, mainly due to stiffness and too many murmured assurances that they weren’t hurting, but once all their layers were out of the way Jyn kissed him like they were on that beach again, and his hands burned her skin worse than any Death Star ever could. 

His hips firmly nestled between her thighs, she leaned down to him. Pressing her nose to his hair, she whispered, 

“I love you, too. Don’t ever let my mark scar over.” 

He kissed her long and hard, eliciting a rather drawn out moan. She felt him smile against her. 

“I won’t.” 

**\- Fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S THE EPILOGUE I PROMISED I HOPE YALL LIKED IT!!!!!!!!!   
> (Poor Han and Leia. They're gonna have a great next UST-filled three years until ESB hahahahaha) 
> 
> ANYWAY, thank you so so much for all your comments and for loving this fic. I means so much to me, I love all of you!!   
> Let me know what you think!!   
> xoxo


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